


Where the Sidewalk Ends

by thenonsenseprophet (ProfessionalCouchPotato)



Series: Ahsoka Displaced [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: ...is that how the force works???, Discussions About The Meaning Of Life, Gen, Really Metaphysical, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessionalCouchPotato/pseuds/thenonsenseprophet
Summary: When you finally reach the point when you can't go any further, what is there to do but look into the abyss?
Relationships: The Daughter | Winged Goddess & Ahsoka Tano
Series: Ahsoka Displaced [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164395
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Where the Sidewalk Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Day 10: Finally, I Am Free Of This Pain. (until the actual exams start in may. i hate this school so much. fake exams: because the real thing isn't stressful enough)

At the very end of the line, there is… nothing. Even the stars do not extend this far, and Ahsoka hasn’t seen a door for miles and miles and miles. Ahsoka had only thought she knew the meaning of the word ‘void’ before this.

She stands there with her toes right up against the edge, with Morai perched quietly on her right pauldron, and feels lost. Certainty - that there was some meaning to her journey, or that she was meant to be here - had not been what had brought her here, but it must have been something. Here, there is nothing.

“Hello,” she shouts. Then she cups her hands around her mouth and leans forward as far as she dares, repeating the call again and again.

There isn’t an echo; the sound just seems to be absorbed by the blackness. Still, she thinks that perhaps something has heard her. 

Ahsoka sits down on the very edge of the path, her feet dangling over the abyss, and waits.

\-----

The thing that coalesces into existence beside Ahsoka is beautiful, or at least, she thinks it is. Looking directly at it is difficult. But what Ahsoka sees out of the corner of her eyes carries itself with the suggestion of a woman’s form, with eyes like neutron stars, a spill of cooling lava for hair, and a gaping, toothy maw instead of a mouth. 

“It is unusual for any to come out this far,” it says conversationally. Its voice folds over itself a hundred times over, echoing before and after it speaks in countless voices at once. Ahsoka fights a growing pressure inside her ears and nods, less in agreement than out of a need to do not pass out.

“Do you have a name?” It asks. “I promise to remember it.”

“Yes, I-” Ahsoka blinks, hard, and shakes her head until her vision clears. “I am called… Ahsla.”

“Ashla,” says the being ponderously. “Is that what your friends call you?”

Ahsoka nods again.  _ The ones I have left. _

“Then I am your friend, also?” It sounds pleased at this, and she even manages an encouraging smile, aimed in its general direction. She quickly turns her eyes forward again.

“None of this is what I was expecting,” Ahsoka says. Her companion makes a low crackling noise that might have been laughter, or a hum of curiosity.

“And what were you expecting?”

Ahsoka waves a hand out into the wall of empty space. “Well, I didn’t think it would just end like this.”

“End? No, this is where it begins,” the being says, confused. 

“But then what was before this?” Ahsoka asks, frustrated. “And what is all of _this_ , anyways?” She waves back at where the path leads behind them, apparently originating right where they sit. “If I walked back far enough, would I find where it actually ends? What happens after that?” 

It giggles, an oddly childish sound to hear from something so fathomless, and its features shift slightly. Suddenly, Ahsoka thinks she sees the impression of frantically fluttering insect wings on its back. 

“You have a lot of questions, little one,” it says. “Walk with me.” 

It extends a tree branch towards her invitingly, and Ahsoka curls her fingers around it until it slowly begins to feel like a humanoid hand. It stands, and draws her along - then steps out onto the nothingness. 

Ahsoka’s teeth clench as she stands beyond the path that had carried her so far. She feels solid ground beneath her feet, but the clean white borders are gone, and some crazed part of her insists that if she looks down the void will consume her. 

“It’s alright,” says the being, and this time when Ahsoka glances up at it her eyes don’t begin to burn. It has lowered several pairs of leathery wings over its form, and now only leaves bright afterimages on her retina. It is still a welcome distraction from the oblivion that surrounds them.

“Good,” it murmurs. Its hand tightens on Ahsoka’s and then they are off. The path and stars of the in-between slowly grow smaller as they walk, then disappear entirely; they are left wandering through absolutely nothing. For all the difference of scenery, they may as well not be moving at all.

“This place is so empty,” Ahsoka remarks uncertainly. “Is this what existed before the galaxy?”

It shakes its head. “No. The Great Before is unknown even to me.” It pauses, and sighs, “Especially to me.” 

Ahsoka turns to look at it, perplexed. She doesn’t even know what to ask anymore; every question she has spawns twelve more. 

“But,” she starts, then trails off. It waits patiently. Still, they walk through nothing. 

Finally, it says to her, “What do you think of the view?”

“There is no view,” Ahsoka frowns.

“Isn’t there?”

“No.”

It laughs at her impertinence. “You aren’t looking hard enough. Can you not feel the movement in this place?”

_ The movement of what?  _ Ahsoka thinks incredulously, but a memory rises to the surface of her mind. Travelling to Illum as an initiate with the rest of her clan, the master had pulled them from their idle game of  _ keep-the-feather-away-from-initiate-Oo'alain _ and told them all to meditate in the cargo hold. 

_ Only a simple mechanism keeps us safe from the space outside the ship, _ he had said calmly.  _ But the Force moves everywhere, even out there. Close your eyes and reach deep inside yourselves. Once you’ve found your centers, I want you to try looking outside the ship.  _

Ahsoka closes her eyes. She finds her own light with some difficulty, eclipsed as it is by the primordial light of whatever it was she walks next to; but parting around them like schools of fish glitter minuscule lights like motes of dust. When she opens her eyes again, she still sees them dancing and dipping in complicated patterns against the blackness. 

“What are they?” breathes Ahsoka. She reaches out, half intending to try and catch some in her hands, but the lights flutter away from her grasping fingers. 

It glances around thoughtfully, then makes a considering noise. 

“It is of no importance,” it says glibly. Ahsoka turns to it, confused and slightly annoyed, but it continues before she can draw breath to protest. “But now you understand that there is no true emptiness, yes?”

She nods reluctantly. 

“Is this… the Force?” she asks quietly, and earns an exasperated sigh. 

“The Force is not a place, little one. It is an energy field--”

“--created by all living things, I  _ know,  _ my masters have told me this all my life.” 

“But where did they learn it?” It asks. “From their masters? And who did _ they _ learn from? No. This is not the Force.”

“Then what is it?”

It laughs softly. “I’m probably not the most unbiased source to ask, unfortunately. But if I had to describe-” it rustles its appendages in a way that widely indicates everything at once, “- _ this, _ I would say it is most similar to the way you have described the Force for generations. It is a legacy, and a construct.”

Ahsoka stops, unsure if she has interpreted that correctly. “A construct. You’re saying that none of this is real,” she says flatly.

“No, it is real. From a certain point of view.” It stops, folding its hands behind its wings and its wings behind the haze that orbits it like an asteroid belt. “But it only exists as a single facet of the Force. It could never encompass all that we are.”

“We?” she prompts. “Are you talking about your brother and father? Are you the Daughter?”

This seems to catch it by surprise. “Am I?” It asks, and its form wavers slightly, becoming more feminine. “I… suppose that I am. But we are only another face for the Force.”

“And the Force is--”

“--Everything,” it finishes with Ahsoka. “Come. We are almost there.”

“Almost where?”

“You’ll see.”

\-------------

“Tell me of your travels,” the being says to Ahsoka. “You bear a wisdom that speaks of a rich life lived.”

Ahsoka doesn't feel very wise. All she has done since coming to the in-between is learn how little she actually knows, and be confused at every turn, reminded of her powerlessness. She says as much, and the being nods wryly.

“Again,” it says, “I am not the best authority on this; I have only just begun as well. But I have found that the more you know, the more you know that you do not know. That is the true mark of wisdom, as is the desire to learn all that you can, and pass it along to those who can someday be better than you were. Even I could never hold the knowledge of the universe at my fingertips.”

“So you aren’t omniscient,” Ahsoka surmises quietly. 

“Not even close. And I am at a disadvantage to even you.” The being draws to a halt and takes both of Ahsoka’s hands in its own. “I am the avatar of the Light, and of life-from-death. That is all I can ever be. But you have no such limitations. You may choose to be light, or dark, or any of the infinite shades between. I envy you, for the ability to choose your own path and grow beyond your own understanding of the way things are. All of you who live beyond this realm are so… free.”

Her throat begins to close up. “Free to make the wrong choices and suffer for it.”

It hums. “Two more constructs. But yes. Free to make your destiny into what you want it to be, and free to assign meaning to the consequences as you please. And that, I think, leads to your final question.”

Ahsoka wants to protest, she wants to say that she hasn’t even begun to ask all of the things she wants to know. But she understands what it means.

_ Ezra, so young and already so familiar with loss, tears in his eyes. “Why can’t I save them?” _

_ Padme, fated to die young and pregnant while her love razed to the ground the values she had protected her whole life. _

_ Demigods and their toys, clinging to any hint of prophecy, trying to find meaning, same as anyone else. _

_ Old warriors, new wars. _

_ Ezra, no longer so young, smiling wryly. “I never left.” _

_ A battlefield carpeted with the bodies of children. A boy who would quietly carry the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders until it killed him. _

_ A violent coming of age - the only type they had ever known. _

_ The galaxy spinning on, walking on the ashes of every war it had inherited and eager to make some new ones. _

_ Ghosts. _

“What is it all for?” Ahsoka whispers. “What does any of it mean?” Then,

“What’s the  _ point  _ of it all?”

The lights nearest them slow in their erratic paths, drifting almost lethargically now, as if waiting for the answer with as much anticipation as Ahsoka. 

“Oh, child,” whispers the being, with all the benevolent inevitability of a sunrise. “I cannot tell you that. That is for you alone to decide for yourself.”

“There is no grand plan,” it says. “There is no rhyme or reason. The Force does not love you, and it does not hate you, nor is it ambivalent. The Force is not sentient, and it cannot think. It has no plan.”

“Then what are you?” Ahsoka asks desperately.

It sighs. “I am as I will ever be, a trick of the Light. I am nothing; all I can do is exist, until I cannot anymore.”

Ahsoka shook her head, slowly at first and then more quickly all at once. “That makes no sense! Either you’re real or you’re not! And what do you mean  _ ‘until I cannot’ _ -” She breaks off suddenly. “Is that what happens at the end of the path? Does the Force  _ die-” _

“The Force is not alive,” her companion says sharply. “ _ It _ cannot die.”

“But something can,” Ahsoka guesses. “And something does, doesn’t it? But what could possibly have such an impact on this place?”

The being’s wings all flare out at once, spilling searing light in colors she can’t even name, and Ahsoka spins away, heart in her throat as it thunders,  _ “That is not for you to know!”  _

Then, the light fades abruptly. When Ahsoka is able to pull more than sips of air into her burning lungs, she turns back to it and finds it watching with something like hesitance. 

“I had not considered,” it murmurs, words out of sync with one another like a broken holorecording, “that perhaps you might be willing to… stay? You might enjoy learning of the history and future history of your kind, yes? You would have an eternity, and you could leave to wherever you please. Whenever.” 

It shuffles in a way that seems almost bashful. “And… we are friends now? Ashla?”

Ahsoka’s head is spinning. She blinks rapidly, swallowing convulsively, and wished her new friend had given her some time to recuperate from being, well,  _ flashed,  _ before asking the same questions she had been grappling with since this had all started.

_ Why do I have to accept the way things are, if I have the chance to make them better?  _

The being watches her curiously. It flutters its rotting wings and moss begins to bloom across them. 

Ahsoka closes her eyes, and tries to remember what it had told her. She barely notices when they start walking again.

_ Why do I have to accept the way things are?  _ She shouts into the shadowed corners of her own mind. From somewhere far away comes the answer.

_ You don’t.  _

The Force has no plan. There is no grand design. There is no one to measure up the value of a life lost or saved. No one could pronounce the meaning of it all for her. 

And if she wants to find it in the in-between, well, she has all the time in the world. More than that even. Time does not exist in this place, and maybe, when she has walked the stretch of this realm and lived countless lifetimes, she may find all of the answers she seeks. 

Or maybe she would just wander; but a ghost, haunting not a place but a series of infinite possibilities. 

Would it be worth it? She shivers, wraps her hands around her biceps, and desperately wishes that someone could point her in the right direction. Perhaps someone can, if she stays. 

But if she stays, she would not leave this realm as the same person who had walked in, and she would not return to the same people she had walked away from. 

What  _ does _ she want?

“Ah,” it says. “We have arrived at last.”

And in the distance is the silver white of the path, and the single door it leads from. 

“That’s--” Ahsoka starts, “Is this whole place a giant circle?”

“The biggest circle of all,” it affirms, amused. “And now we have reached the end you were so curious about before. This is the favored hiding place of my brother, death-after-life. He doesn’t seem to be around, but I’m sure he won’t mind us passing through.”

The door grows steadily larger in the distance, and as they approach, the mote-like lights begin to wink out quietly. This end of the path, unlike the one they had walked from, has doors leading all the way up until the very end. 

Expectantly perched atop the final door is Morai. She chirps as Ahsoka and the being draw near. 

“What a lovely creature,” it says warmly, and then right before Ahsoka’s eyes its body melts like wax and solidifies into the pale cream and green angles of the Daughter. Her hair still curls in a phantom breeze, and her eyes stare uncannily past Ahsoka’s face and straight into her, but her triumphant look nonetheless brings a smile to Ahsoka’s face.

“Well,” says the Daughter, “If you’ve decided to leave, then this must be where we part ways. I have enjoyed our talk.”

Ahsoka inclines her head respectfully, shoving away her inner turmoil - for now. “As have I,” she replies.

“This door will take you wherever you choose,” the Daughter points at the door on the end of the path, larger and more ornate than the others Ahsoka had encountered. 

“If this is the end, where else does it lead to?” Ahsoka can’t help but ask.

“Anywhere you want,” insists the Daughter. “Goodbye, my friend.”

And with that, she dissipates into the black backdrop of the in-between like steam. Ahsoka turns back to the door.

“How about it, Morai,” she says as the condor glides down to secure its talons into her shoulder. “Where do we want to go?” Morai hoots softly and butts her head against Ahsoka’s.

“I was thinking the same thing. They’ll probably be waiting for us, after all.” She releases a breath, and turns to look back along the white-lit blackness of the path behind her. The door glows an eerie green as she steps towards it.

“Let’s go home.”


End file.
